


Jealous Shadows

by Deadly Night_Sh1ft (CrookedMath)



Series: Unnecessary Shadows [8]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Absurd Arousal, Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Autoerotic Violence, F/M, Genital Piercing, Introspection, Jealousy, Love/Hate, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Memories, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive Behavior, Rage, Separations, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 14:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15026273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedMath/pseuds/Deadly%20Night_Sh1ft
Summary: An introspective look into Undertaker's possessive jealousy as he gets to know himself in a rather intimate fashion while his lover is doing the same in the room next to his.If you want to, I'd recommend reading chapters 1 and 2 of Unnecessary Secrets to give this greater depth and more context, but that is completely optional as this can also serve as a standalone work.***DISCLAIMER*** I do not own Kuroshitsuji. That honor goes to Yana Toboso





	Jealous Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Undertaker's innermost thoughts *
> 
> I just had to do this. I just had to. This is my first time writing a male autoerotic work, so be gentle. I was just picturing the absurdity of Undertaker being aroused while in a state of jealous rage. Also, I don't like the idea of perverting male masturbation, unless it's comedy, but that's another genre altogether. If female masturbation can be beautiful in writing, then so can that of males, and that's that. Anyway, prepare yourself for Undertaker's true nature beneath that smiling face and mirthful laugh.  
> Enjoy.

The affection starved goddess was bathing while he was standing, staring blankly at the wall dividing them from each other. He was fatigued from tending to the overabundance of guests that made their final visits to his humble, little shop. His mind wandered to the morning she caught him off guard and asserted her dominance over him.

*Part of me hated it, yet part of me still craves more.*

For the past week, he had been coldly avoiding her in favor of his many guests, whereas in the past, he'd go out of his way to make time to be with her. Even his guests didn't mind her presence when she was there, but lately, he'd been just as possessive of his guests as he was of her. He knew full well that his avoidance of her-his denial of affection-would eventually drive her into violent madness from which there was no turning back if he continued letting his emotions consume him. Nevertheless, he stood, staring like an idiot at the wall dividing them. As he continued reflecting on _that_ morning and the amazement he felt when simply gazing into her hypnotic eyes was enough to replace his jealous rage with the lust she craved, he had already unconsciously shed his outer layers of clothing.

*What the hell am I doing?*

Sweet, pleasured noises from beyond the wall of their shared bathroom entered his auditory senses. He knew that she was using herself as a substitute for him.

*Or is she? I wonder who she's _really_ thinking of when she touches herself?*

Words cried out in an arcane dialect of her language pierced his ears as she unlocked her secret places. The erotic sounds she made and the possessive, jealous rage burning deep within him as he reflected on the events from _that_ morning somehow aroused him. As he freed what made him a man from skintight leather, he couldn't help but stifle a laugh due to the leaps of illogic from getting a hard-on at a time like this under emotional circumstances like his. When he thought about it, he realized it had been a long time since he needed to engage in cannibalistic autoeroticism. He didn't require it the same way she did. No, he was simply a glutton, and going a week without sating his hunger was far too long for him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he leaned against the wall while steadily stroking himself.

"Why am I even doing this when I can just go in there and fuck her?" he agonizingly mused. Yet, he stayed in his place, pierced private in pumping hand. He bit his lip, drawing blood, in order to stifle an impending cry of ecstasy as he teased that certain piercing with a single, long, black nail. Even though he was closer to completion than he thought he would be given the current circumstances, the surreal combination of his dangerous emotions and the erotic sounds of his lavender lover unlocking her secret places still wasn't enough for him to climax.

*Son of a bitch. Why _him_? Why am I thinking of _him_ when _she's_ just beyond the wall? Fuck!*

Black leather slid down scarred thighs as he slid down the wall. The absurdity of being exponentially more aroused by thoughts of the object of his jealous rage was not lost on him. Distant memories appeared behind closed eyes as his hand closed around aching arousal, violently picking up where it left off. Despite the pleasured moans coming from the room adjacent to his, he could only see the man with the high contrast eyes reflected back at him within the darkness of his mind.

_"Why are you so captivating?"_

_"Why are you so alluring?"_

*He'd always answer my question with a question of his own as if he were hiding a secret from me. Perhaps he was...and still is. Gods, why is he so fucking captivating?*

He remembered the countless times he shed tears upon gazing at the captivating shadow's uncanny beauty and all the times he'd kiss away his tears, assuring him there was no reason for them to be shed. He remembered all the times the object of his jealousy told him that even though he couldn't see him, he knew that he was beautiful. Passionate nights, courtesy of a passionate, dominant man, invaded his memory and awakened his desire to be penetrated, which only expressed itself in increasingly violent strangling of his privately pierced place. He forcefully dug a long, onyx nail beneath the piercing, twisting it this way and that when he recaptured memories of penetrating the object of his jealousy.

*Maybe I am a closet masochist after all... Ha! In his dreams! I would never give him the satisfaction of thinking he was right.*

His lover's cry of bliss reverberated in his auditory senses, merging with memories of _him_ ; two becoming a single object of jealousy. Possessive desire overrode the pleasant past when images of the Conduit and the Gray Shadow engaging in passionate trysts-even going so far as making love on one occasion-cruelly engraved themselves into his mind.

*How could she be so shameless with him? She willingly showed all of herself to him, even with the scars and blemished flesh. She allowed him to touch her, to feel her, to...love her. Yet, I was denied the same affection she gave him for so long. Was it not I who claimed her? She was the one who insisted we were One. Are we One?*

His dark, possessive desire translated itself into sadistic stroking. His questioning thoughts expressed themselves by way of nails digging into his genital piercing. Why he was so aroused by these conflicting, dark desires and dangerous emotions, he knew not. Perhaps it was the sweet, erotic sounds escaping from a malignant voice from beyond the wall that served as a stimulus. Nevertheless, the violence he meted out on himself increased as he approached the precipice of unlocking his secret places. When another cry of rapture from next door broke through the wall between them, his jealous rage kicked into overdrive. He began wondering if the object of his jealousy made her cry out that way when he was fucking her, too.

*The same way he always made me cry out when I lost myself to him.*

With that bittersweet thought at the forefront of his mind, his violent autoeroticism came to an explosive end.

xxxxxx

As he sat in post masturbatory silence, more erotic sounds leaked through the wall into his consciousness. He knew she knew that they were using themselves as substitutes for each other. She knew he knew that she was starving, and that she, too, was partaking in her own version of cannibalistic autoeroticism. A loud cry of rapture emanated from their shared bathroom as the petite shattered the locks to her secret places. When the feeling of aching arousal returned, he didn't have to look down to realize that he was hard again. "That little minx," he softly snickered.

He closed his eyes, thinking only of her, but again, _he_ dominated his thoughts the way she dominated him; sweetly vicious with only a tiny hint of sadism. A pang of guilt, followed by more dark, possessive desire than jealous rage motivated him to touch himself the way she did the morning she dominated him.

*As though I'm making love to myself.*

As he gently, yet firmly felt his full length, he'd pause long enough to play with the genital piercing all of his previous lovers were obsessed with. He gradually quickened his pace, twisting his hand ever so slightly as his grip became firmer. He took care to tug the private piercing each time he squeezed the tip. Even in acts of autoeroticism, he still made the despised tiny whimper, signaling that he was close. His mind went blank, freeing him of the objects of his jealousy as he affectionately felt every inch of what differentiated him from woman. The sweet, malignant cry of his lover shattering the secrets to her secret places echoed in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut and his blank mind filled with her, and her alone as his hand became her simulation, bringing him closer to completion. As he made the final pass over his full length, he didn't bother to hold back his own cry of rapture, finally having shattered surreal locks to his own secret places.

xxxxxx

He and the starving goddess sat back to back in strained silence. A wall divided them that could easily be crossed by one or both of them, but neither dared to move from their places. In his jealous rage, he was unable to find his weakness for her soft, tearful pleas for him not to be angry at her. He only replied with the same cold avoidance he'd been giving her since _that_ morning.

*Only _I_ can think of him! Not _you_ or anyone else!*

**Author's Note:**

> Juno Reactor's new album is out, The Mutant Theatre. I've enjoyed typing this up while listening to it. If I ever get to see them live, I can die happy. If you know who Juno Reactor is, you get cookies.


End file.
